


Love is a speldor thing - Part 1

by NYWCgirl



Category: White Collar
Genre: Car Accidents, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Near Death Experiences, Psychological Torture, Serial Killers, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-09-01 22:23:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8640448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NYWCgirl/pseuds/NYWCgirl
Summary: The FBI is up against a serial killer who tortures his victims before he leaves them to a slow and agonizing death. Will Peter and Neal be able to catch him before he takes his next victim? And what happens when the serial killer goes after one of them? Will the other be able to save him?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This part of the story fills my `Near Death experience´ square on my h/c bingo card and is written for the White Collar Big Bang 2016. The wonderful art is made by Esgeee.

 

He takes his victim out of the box at least once a day, but the man is only vaguely aware of this. Sometimes he is not completely sedated and he blinks up at his abductor with droopy eyes. But most of the time, his eyes roll back in his head and he is unaware that he is being cleaned and taken care of. He talks to his victim in a soothing voice, reassuring him, telling him what a good boy he is.

At the moment he feeds the man a liquid diet through his IV, but he can´t wait until he is more lucid, so he can feed his victim properly. He knows better than to try and feed him in his current state. He tried it before and it did not end well for that person.

He has sculpted the man´s body to fit in the box he made. His arms are bound behind his back at the wrists and elbows and attached to his ankles. All the shackles are handmade by himself for each of his victims, as is the posture collar. That way his victims stay in perfect posture in their transparent boxes, even unconscious. He takes great pride in that. They look like living sculptures.

Every time he takes out his victim out of the box, he gently massages and stretches all of his limbs after removing the restraints. He doesn´t want to atrophy the muscles and tendons. He is very careful to prolong his ‘care’.

 

* *  *

 

Neal wakes up in the dark. It takes a while before his brain catches up with reality. He can´t move his arms or legs, now that he thinks about it, he can´t move anything. He can´t get enough air, he is suffocating. He… He recognizes the panic attack and he does his best to control his breathing.

So he is not suffocating, but he is in pain. His brain is just overwhelmed with all the impulses it is getting. It takes a while before he realizes he is in a kneeling position, his muscles are cramping while other parts of his body are numb. His back and shoulders hurt, it is not an ache, it is excruciating pain. He screams out his pain, but he isn´t getting enough air, he can´t expand his lungs enough because he is wedged between something.

He forces himself to relax to focus on his last memory and not at the situation he is in. How did he get here? The last thing he remembers… Wait… the car crash. Is he squashed inside the car wreck? He was …, no he wasn´t alone, there was someone with him.

Peter!

Peter had been driving. A car had slammed into them. They were in an accident. Maybe that is why he is hurting so bad and why he can´t move. Maybe he is paralyzed.

The pain is becoming unbearable again; he must have been in the same position for a long time. He hates himself for it, but he starts crying, it is the only relief his body has since he can´t move. But his crying makes the air in the box stuffier and hotter, he knows that he should stay calm, but he can´t and he starts to hyperventilate. But the faster he breaths, the more restricted the box feels, there is just not enough air.

Tears keep falling and he wants to struggle, but there is just not enough space, so he starts screaming again until he passes out.

 

* *  *

 

When he wakes up, his heart rate picks up immediately, he is still in the same position. Instinctively he wants to struggle, only to realize he can´t. The pain is less than he can remember, but he wants out. Someone should have found them by now, shouldn´t they?

“Peter?” he tries, but there is no response.

“PETER!” he cries out. “HELP. SOMEBODY HELP ME.”

He keeps screaming until the air is getting thick again. It doesn´t take long to lose consciousness again.

He startles awake and wonders how many times he has woken before? It doesn´t matter, he has no tears left and he feels weak and lethargic, all he wants to do is sleep. He can´t gather up enough energy to struggle.

And then all of a sudden, cool air hits him. This is his chance, he wants to call for help, but is screaming has left his throat raw and no real sound leaves his mouth.

Someone laughs and Neal opens his eyes, only to stare in the face of a man. They are here to get him out, he sort of lets out a sob in relief.

He can see the man fiddling with plastic tubing; it takes him a moment to sink in that it looks like IV-tubing. The man connects it with something high on his chest. He wants to see, but he can´t bend his head due to something around his neck, probably a cervical collar.

Something is placed back again on top of him, what sounds like a lid. He can see the man leave after he connected the line to some sort of electronic IV-stand. Neal can´t withhold the sob that escapes him.

“Don´t leave me.” He whispers.

He can see a colored fluid slowly making his way towards him. He can only guess what is in the IV-bag. Once the fluid reaches him, he panics, but after a while he realizes, he doesn´t feel any different, maybe it is saline. But shouldn´t saline be colorless?

After what feels like hours, his thirst is lessening, so the IV contains probably fluids to prevent dehydration. But it didn´t take away the pain. His knees and shoulders are killing him, and he needs relief. As his body can´t give it to him, he starts screaming again.

Without warning something hot streams through his veins and his screaming makes way for begging.

“Please, why aren´t you helping me? What are you doing? What do you want?”

The warmth takes away the pain and soon Neal´s brain is too doped to care. He feels good, better than good, it is an almost orgasmic feeling.

 

* *  *

 

It didn´t take the FBI long to figure out that one of their vehicles was in an accident. All their cars are outfitted with an automatic vehicle accident alert system.

So as soon as the system registered the accident, an alerting message containing time and location was sent to the FBI emergency number. By the time local law enforcement arrived at the accident side, the first responders found the wrecked car, but no sign of the occupants. They searched for hours but both Peter and Neal had vanished.

 

* *  *

Neal can hear noises and slowly blinks open his eyes. He still isn´t understanding what is going on. He isn´t in a hospital, that is for sure, so what is with the pain killers and the IV? He tries to look around with just his eyes and realizes he is stuffed in a sort of box. The box is transparent because he can see through it. He does his best to get his drugged mind to work properly and to take in details. It is the first time he is this lucid but with it comes the horror of where he is. He is not in the car wreck like he thought he was. He is stuffed in some sort of plexiglass box.

Neal´s panic skyrockets.

This is not good, their serial killer has him.

What happened to Peter? Is he also here? He tries to look, but can´t turn his head and in his line of vision there is nobody.

He can hear footsteps coming towards him. The man he has a vague recollection of seeing before, stops in front of his box. When the lid comes off, there is fresh air.

“Neal.”

Neal´s entire body tenses in anticipation. There is so much he wants to say and ask, but he only manages “Why?”

“I will let you out.”

Neal just stares at the man with puffy tired eyes.

“If you sing me a song.”

Neal´s brain can´t seem to process the strange request.

“What?” he croaks.

“Sing me a song. If I like it I will let you out.”

Neal blinks and tries to swallow.

“Sing? Sing what?”

His abductor closes the lid and walks away.

“No please, wait, I will sing.” He screams, but the man ignores him.

Neal panics and tears threaten to fall again.

Abruptly the lid is opened again.

“I´ll sing.” He croaks.

“Love is a splendor…” his voice is rough from the screaming, so Neal tries to clear it, but it doesn´t and he starts coughing. The panic is back and he can´t expand his chest enough and he will suffocate…

“That won´t do Neal, breathe.”

The lids is closed again.

“Wait.” Neal shouts. “Please, please take me out.”

He is not above begging anymore, his shouts turn into sobbing. All hope is lost and Neal suddenly realizes that death will not come easy. It didn´t for the previous victims they found and it won’t be for him.

So he starts singing softly to spare his disused voice.

“Love is a many splendored thing It’s the April rose that only grows in the early Spring Love is nature’s way of giving a reason to be living The golden crown that makes a man a king

Once on a high and windy hill, in the morning mist Two lovers kissed and the world stood still Then your fingers touched my silent heart…”

Neal starts crying again. The man is not coming back. It is no use.

“Please continue. You have a lovely voice.” The man says with a gentle voice.

Neal startles but quickly continues.

“My silent heart and taught it how to sing Yes, true love’s a many splendored thing

Once on a high and windy hill, In the morning mist Two lovers kissed and the world stood still Then your fingers touched my silent heart and taught it how to sing Yes, true love’s a many splendored thing”

 

Neal´s voice trails off near the end of the song.

“Out? Please?”

“Because you asked so politely, Neal.”

A mask is placed over his face and Neal´s anxiety skyrockets again. He wants to struggle, but his restraints prevent that.

“Calm your breathing. Breathe in… and out…”

Neal starts to feel lightheaded and blames it on his hyperventilation. It isn´t until an euphoric feeling spreads throughout his body that he realizes he is being drugged again. The warm tingling feeling spreads through his arms and legs. He just gives in and welcomes the black void.

 

* * *

 

Officer Malcolm gets the call around midnight. A truck driver reports a person who is walking unsteady on one of the local roads. After taking the man´s name and number, he promises to check it out. He radios his colleague and gets in his car. It doesn´t take him long to locate the signed man and as described, he is walking like a drunk, so he switches on the siren. To is surprise the man stops over although it is half on the road and he keeps swaying back and forth.

He gets out of the car, puts on his hat, unclips his holster and walks up to the man who is just staring to something in the distance.

“Please turn around, sir.”

When the man doesn´t respond, he touches the man´s shoulder. The man startles bad and it is only now that he realizes the man is injured.

“Sir, are you injured?”

Peter slowly turns and just blinks.

“I…think… I need help.”

He can now smell the stench of blood and vomit and he immediately calls in an ambulance while examining the man.

“Can you tell me your name? Sir? Your name?”

“P’ter B’rke.”

“Peter Burke? Are you special agent Peter Burke?”

But before the man answers, his eyes roll back and loses consciousness. Just in time, he can grab onto the man, gently lowering him down.

“Sir? Peter?” He tries to rouse the man, but he is unsuccessful.

“Tom? I need an ETA on that ambulance.”

 

* * *

Being out of the box doesn´t feel as good as Neal had expected. He is lying on the floor, sobbing. The drugs are leaving his system and he is in agony. The restraints are gone, but his muscles are severely cramping. But he is just in too much pain to even try to escape, so he just lays there. He moans when another wave of pain rips through him.

“I can take the pain away.” The man merely states.

Neal tries to breathe through the pain, but the tears that fall betray him.

“I will hit you with a dose of heavy painkillers if you dine with me.”

Neal is too far retreated into himself to listen properly, but he does registers the word painkiller and he needs to fight with himself not to nod.

“Get away from me.” He hisses.

“OK, let´s get you back in the box.” The man takes out the restraints and Neal tries to get away from him, but he is no match for the man.

“No, please, don´t.”

“Don´t what?”

“Not the box.”

“So you will dine with me.”

Neal thinks about it and then finally nods.

The man injects a syringe into his central line. The medicine washes over him like a tidal wave and Neal moans, but this time it is in ecstasy.

“Are you still in pain?”

“No”

“Good, can you stand?”

“Can I?” Neal asks confused.

“I want you to try, come on.”

He is pulled up and wavers. The man waits until he is more steady on his feet before slowly pulling Neal with him. Neal shuffles next to the man. When he is pushed down, he sits on something that is filled with warmth. It is nice; he gets this floating feeling and Neal smiles, leaning into the touch when his hair is washed. His abductor washes and grooms him. When they are done, Neal is being lead into a chair, dressed in white boxers and T-shirt. He isn´t cold, however, the pain is slowly returning which means the drugs are wearing off. Neal realizes that this is a good thing; it means he can think of a way to escape, if only he can con his abductor to believe he is still incapacitated.

No such luck, the man must be a mind reader.

“Don´t even think about escaping, the doors are locked with electronic locks and there isn´t a living soul around in hundreds of miles.”

It is said in a matter of fact tone and not menacing, but Neal understands the underlying threat. Neal just nods. If it is true what the man says, it is no use, he won´t make it out of this hell hole, on the other side, what if he is lying? But Neal thinks back on the victims they have found, he is probably not exaggerating. He sighs in defeat.

“What do I call you?”

“You may call me Meester.”

While Neal is sitting in the chair, he can see Meester finishing his cooking in the open kitchen and taking two plates. He spoons some sort of stew in the plates and Neal´s stomach growls when the delicious aroma reaches him. Meester puts the plate in front of him and sits next to him. He picks up the spoon and scoops some up and brings it to Neal´s mouth.

“I can feed myself?”

“I am aware of that fact, but I will feed you.”

Neal considers refusing the food, but then thinks better of it and opens his mouth. He realizes this is Meester showing that he is no longer in charge of his own body. His abductor wants him depend on him.

After a couple of spoons, he stops feeding Neal.

“Can I have more?”

“No, I don´t want you to get sick. You haven´t eaten in quite some time.”

 

* * *

 

Peter gasps as the pain hits him. He opens his eyes and is met with white walls, white ceiling.

Hospital… he thinks and with it, all the memories rush back; the car accident, Neal, NEAL… he attempts to sit up, but gasps. Not a good plan. He lets his hands wander over the sheets and finds the call button. A nurse enters and smiles when she notices Peter is awake.

“How are you feeling?”

“It hurts but I will live. I need to take a phone call.”

Yes, well, the doctor will be in soon. We informed you wife and office as soon as you were admitted. Why don´t you rest for now, I will bring you some breakfast, how does that sound?”

“Very good, thanks.”

The nurse leaves and almost immediately after, a doctor enters.

“Good morning agent Burke, my name is doctor Grohe, I was on call when you were brought in.

“When was that?”

“Last night. You were brought in with a gunshot wound to your right shoulder. Damage was minimal and we expect a full recovery.

“Good, when can I leave?”

“We would like to see how you feel tomorrow…”

“I need to go back to New York City, my CI is still missing.”

“Why am I not surprised? As long as you have someone to pick you up and stay with you and that you seek medical aftercare where you live.”

“I will take care of that.”

“OK, I will ask for some late breakfast, if everything stays down, I will take care of your discharge papers.”

“Appreciate it.”

Peter finishes his breakfast and anxiously waits for the doctor to return. Before he does, Diana and Jones arrive to escort him back to the city. They explain that they didn´t want to endanger Elizabeth so she will be waiting for them in a safe house.

 

* * *

Neal is surprised by his will to live. He isn´t sure how much time has passed, it can be days, weeks or even months, he has been drugged so many times, he is not sure anymore. He used to think Peter would save him, but he lost hope by now. There have been a couple of times where he hoped Meester would overdose him, but no such luck. Neal recognizes what Meester is doing, he wants Neal to become codependent. And it is all Neal can do, if he wants to survive this, he has to play Meester´s games.

His muscles burn, they are stretched; his shoulders and neck hurt every time he tries to move, not that there is much wiggle space. The restraints are cutting into his flesh and he wonders how long it s since he had his last drink, let alone had food. He is thirsty, he is also done screaming and just whimpers when the pain becomes too much.

Out of nowhere, Neal hears gunshots. He blinks open his eyes.

“FBI, DOWN, FACE THE FLOOR!”

“Peter?”

Tears spring in Neal´s eyes.

“PETER!” he tries to shout, but his body is too constricted to expand his chest enough to shout and his mouth is just too dry. They came, they finally came. The relief he feels is so massive, it takes over all of his feelings, he is almost trembling.

He waits and waits and finally the door opens, but it isn´t Peter who walks in, it is Meester and Neal´s despair reaches a new level. The lid of the box is opened.

“It was fun to see you hallucinating, Neal. I guess it is the dehydration, it was a nice experiment, but we don´t want any permanent damage, now would we?”

Neal can see Meester connect an IV-bag to his IV port.

“Peter is not here?” he whispers brokenly.

It is a testimony how far his muddled brain is that he asks such a question.

“No Neal, Peter wasn´t here. But now that I am here, what shall we do?”

“Please let me out, I…”

“Will you be a good boy, Neal? Because remember, if you think you are suffering now, thrust me, this is nothing. I will bury you alive, but will continue feeding your body… I predict I can keep you alive for weeks, if not months.”

Neal tries to keep his sobs under control and not to hyperventilate. The coldness in Meester´s voice gives him the chills and he knows he will do it. There is no doubt in his mind.

“Are you hungry?”

“Yes, please let me out, I will do anything. I will be a good boy, I promise.”

“I know you will.” Meester says benevolent and pets Neal´s head. Neal leans into the touch and is able to get his breathing under control. He hates himself for it. He doesn´t open his eyes when he hears the padlocks on the box being opened. Finally able to fully expand his chest, Neal gulps in the fresh air. Meester leans Neal against his legs, before carefully lowering him to the ground. The change in position has Neal whimpering, but the pain hits him full on, when Meester undoes his restraints and his legs and arms are freed. He breathes through the pain, but blacks out when his legs are straightened.

 

* * *

He is working when he hears Neal call out for Peter, he gets up to check it out, but he can see that Neal is hallucinating. He almost feels sorry for his victim when he realizes Neal is waiting to be rescued. Then his cruel streak makes him open the door. The moment Neal comes to realize that help is not coming gives him a rush like he has never felt before.

It is obvious Neal is severely dehydrated, he should make notes. This is valuable information. He quickly connects a bag of saline to Neal´s IV port.

“Peter´s not here?” Neal really sounds delusional and broken.

He frowns. Neal must be really out of it, to ask such a question. Neal´s worse off than he thought. He has to be careful, he doesn´t want to lose his guinea pig too quick.

Neal starts begging and he agrees that it is time to take him out of the box, so he gives Neal a small warning what will happen if he tries to escape. Not that he will be able to, his muscles are too stiff, he would be surprised if Neal would be able to stand on his own. But it never hurts to remind Neal who is in charge.

He can see Neal is trying to get himself back in check, good boy, that is what he likes about Neal. After checking if Neal is hungry, he releases Neal. The way Neal is balancing on his knees in the box, the moment he opens the front panel, he supports Neal against his legs. He unbuckles the restraints that bind Neal´s ankles and elbows together behind his back. He knows Neal is in considerable pain but he doesn´t expect Neal to faint the moment he stretches out his legs. Oh well, it will make the next part easier.

He picks Neal limp body up and carries him to another room that he equipped like a doctor´s practice. He places Neal on the treatment chair that is standing in the middle of the room. Neal regained consciousness when he was carried into the room, but stayed still.

While he is at it, he fastens Neal´s wrists and ankles first. Neal doesn´t resist when leather belts are fastened over his chest and abdomen.

He then leaves the room to prepare diner.

 

* * *

 

Diana and Jones take Peter straight home where Elizabeth is waiting for him. She was already informed by Hughes that Peter was on his way. The moment he steps through the door, he falls in an embrace with El. Tears are prickling behind his eyes, he had never expected to see her again.

“Hon…”

“You need to rest, come let´s go to bed.”

“I need to…”

“No Peter, you first need to rest, you are not going to find Neal when you are dead on your feet. I almost lost you Peter.”

Peter stares in his wife´s eyes. She is right, she is so right. Peter nods and takes the offered medication and lies down on his bed. The feeling and smell of his own bed combined with the exhaustion has him drifting off before he realizes.

 

* * *

When Neal wakes, he has a feeding tube inserted, he tries to shake his head to get rid of it, but his restraints don´t allow him to move much. He lets his eyes examine the room he is held in until his eyes rest on Meester. He is sitting across from him at a small table. It is only now that Neal realizes his stomach is growling as he can smell the wonderful aroma of veal with truffles and pasta, it reminds him of Italy.

“Welcome back, Neal. I must admit, I hadn´t anticipated you fainting, but I am glad you are back with us.”

“Please…”

“Please what, Neal?”

“Make it stop, please?”

“You don´t want veal?”

“No, just…”

“Just what Neal? Let you die? I don´t think so. You will die when I say so. Until then you are my little pet project.”

 

* * *

 

When Peter wakes, he can hear voices downstairs. He grabs a quick shower, mindful of his injury and sort of feels better. He slowly descends the stairs, to find a large part of the White collar unit sitting around his dining room table.

“Good to see you again, Peter.”

“Thanks, any news from Caffrey?”

“No, we hoped you could fill us in.”

Peter sits down on the chair that is vacated by one of the agents.

“Well, there isn´t much to tell, it is definitely a man, he drives a large pickup, dark blue with a bull bar. I don´t think I saw the license plate.”

“Any details on the guy?”

Peter thinks.

_The moment the pickup slammed into their car, he was knocked out by the impact. It must have been only for a few seconds, because the car that just hit them, was backing away when he regained consciousness. He looked to the side and saw Neal slummed sideways in his seat belt._

_He needed to get Neal out of here. Unfastening his seatbelt, he could hear the guy getting out of his car and walking up to them. He pulled out his gun and checked his surroundings. The moment he found his target, he fired. The guy ducted away, probably not having expected resistance._

_He tried to rouse Neal by shaking him, but he was out cold. He fired again at the guy, but now he was prepared and fired back. He needed to leave the car to protect Neal, they were sitting ducks like this. He left the car under a spray of bullets and found some cover behind some rocks where he returned fire. But he got distracted when he heard something by the car. Neal was waking up. The moment of distracting was enough for the other guy to take a good aim. The moment the bullet hit him in the right shoulder, He was to stunned to cry out and blacked out for a moment. But the pain pierced through his addled brain. He needed to get away from this guy. He examined the scene in front of him, but his injury distracted him and he couldn´t think clearly. He pushed off towards the car but quickly determined Neal was still unconscious. He needed to get away before the man finished them both._

_“I will be back, Neal!” he whispered before quietly running to the forest._

* * *

Meester is pleased. His latest victim is lasting way longer than he expected. His other victims just gave up or infuriated him in such a way that he ended them. But Neal, oh, he is gorgeous, in the beginning, he was so convinced that he would be rescued, so he needed to see how far he could go before he broke his latest victim.

And here they are, day twenty three of their playtime. He studies Neal who is still sleeping. He is marveled by the fact that Neal can sleep during all of this. At the moment he is back in the box; folded almost in half, his lips are chapped. He should get some lip balm. He takes good care of Neal´s body, but Neal hasn´t had anything through his mouth in over two weeks, but with a bit of balm, that should be OK. He looks so peaceful, sort of like an angel. Then it hits him, maybe Neal is his angel.

Neal must have sensed he is being studied, because he startles awake. He doesn´t have the strength anymore to scream. He can see Neal does his best to swallow, but his throat must be raw by now. His eyes are begging…

… begging to end this.

“Good morning Neal, ready for a new day?”

A small whimper escapes Neal. His distress rolls off him like the droplets of sweat he is producing. He opens the lid of the box and Neal gulps in the fresh air. He can see that Neal is anxious, not knowing what is going to happen. The last couple of days he has been experimenting a bit more with heat and cold and learned that his victim suffers better in the cold. The heat makes him pass out rather quickly, cutting the fun short.

The problem at hand is the fact that is victim is weakening and not a lot of fun anymore, so he decided to do one last little experiment and see how Neal copes.

 

* * *

 

Neal rouses from a sort of slumber when the box is opened. By now he is too weak to try and fight his captor, so he lets himself be manhandled out of the box. However the moment Meester stretches his limbs, he screams, the agony is mind consuming until he feels something hot pulse through his veins and the world becomes fuzzier. He can still feel Meester massaging his arms and legs, but the pain is distant. Meester keeps stretching all his muscles until he is once again flat on his back.

He is then carried to what looks like a coroner´s table Goosebumps form on his skin when it connects with the cold steel table. Meester doesn´t take any risks and he is quickly tied to the table. His right arm however is tied to the side of the table.

“So Neal, is there anything in particular that you want to eat? We have to wait until the sedative I gave you is out of your system, so we have time.”

Neal´s throat is so dry and raw he can´t form an answer. He can´t remember the last time he drank. Even trying to swallow hurts, even more so after his recent screaming.

“Hmm, no preferences, OK, I will make you something nice.”

Neal can hear the man working in the kitchen. A single tear rolls down his cheek. He is not going to be rescued, let alone escape. It is painfully clear he is going to die here.

He startles when he feels the tube in him expand, a sure sign he is being fed. He hates this part. He feels like a goose being force fed for foie gras. He hates that the feeding keeps his body alive. He definitely hates the way the tube in his throat gives him the strange sort of choking feeling. When food is pushed through the tube, he always experiences a sort of feeling that he can´t get enough air, but he never chokes.

“Today´s menu is a cock au vin with pommes dauphine and I added a glass of Merlot. I thought you might like that.”

Neal doesn´t react at all, he tries the fight the building nausea. He knows he can´t vomit, the contraption in his stomach somehow prevents him from regurgitating his food. He knows from experience.

It takes almost half an hour to empty the feeding bag before it is removed. Neal has fallen asleep during his feeding, but wakes when Meester is fumbling with the feeding line. Neal slowly opens his eyes just in time to see Meester injecting something in his central line. He then proceeds to free Neal from his restraints, which seems odd to Neal until he feels a heaviness sink in his limbs. His breathing picks up together with his stress levels.

“Shhh, pretty one. It is just a muscle relaxant that is used during operations. Shh. It will be quick and painless.”

The words seem to burn into Neal´s mind. So this is it? This was his last meal?

He wants to talk, to say something before he dies, but his vocal cords are paralyzed as well. He can feel Meester doing something to his wrist, and he wants to turn his head and see what he is doing, but he can´t. His stress and fear need an outlet and tears start to flow.

“Now now, you were brave and did well, but it is time for us to part. Close your eyes Neal, go to sleep.”

Neal wants to struggle, to shout, to fight back, he doesn´t want it to end this way. The realization that this is actually the end gives him an adrenaline spike. He is unaware that this also causes his blood pressure to increase, thus bleeding out quicker.

 

* * *

 

Peter had told the task force the FBI formed to catch the serial killer, everything he knows. A big campaign was set up and the description of the pickup is broadcasted nationwide. They sent Peter back home to rest with the promise they will contact him as soon as they know or find something.

Jones drops him off and even waits to see El opening the door and helping Peter inside. It makes his blood boil the way he is treated, like an invalid or something. But once he sees El´s worried face, he needs to admit to himself that he also has commitments towards her, so he lets her mother hen over him, takes his pain pills and goes to take a nap. He can feel the pain killers kick in just as El snuggles up behind him. He gives a content sigh before drifting off.

 

_Neal and he had followed up on a witness who had a lead in the serial killer case the FBI was persuading. Peter and Neal had been assigned to the formed task force. The killer so far had killed seven people, or better that was the amount of bodies found. None of the seven victims were sexually assaulted. However they had brushes on wrists and ankles. Forensics concluded that they were from restraints worn over longer periods of time. From the stiffness in joints and atrophy in their muscles, forensics also concluded that all victims were kept immobile and in one position, however their bodies and hair had been taken washed and taken care of. The tox screens showed high levels of ketamine and diazepam among other sedatives._

_The witness had info that needed to be checked more thoroughly and they had decided to have a bite to eat before heading back to the office. Neal had pointed out a local diner and they both decided on the home made pecan pie and coffee instead of lunch. El wasn´t there to disapprove._

_During their break Neal had the feeling they were being observed, but couldn´t see anything amiss when he glanced over his surroundings. He told Peter and joked that this case made everybody paranoid. They decided to head back into the city._

_Neal had been driving Peter crazy with the radio when all of a sudden the pickup had slammed into them. Peter had seen the movement of the blue car coming towards them in the corner of his eye._

_There was something white on its windshield. Peter strained to see it, but then their car was hit and glass was shattering around him and his head hit the side window._

 

“Peter! Wake up, hon, you´re dreaming. Come on, wake up now.”

Peter startles awake and it takes a moment to realize that he is laying on the couch, in his own living room.

“You dreamed about the accident, didn´t you?”

“Yes, I… There has been something nagging on my mind. I saw something on the pick up´s windshield but for some reason I can´t seem to remember what it was.”

Peter is sort of angry at himself for not remembering the details, he is a professional. If someone should be able to focus on the details, it would be him.

“Hon, don´t beat yourself up over this.”

“Neal is in the hands of that monster, El. I need to remember.”

“Well, a client of mine is a hypnotherapist; Maybe you should talk to her.”

Peter gives his wife a questionable look.

“What? I can´t harm, can it?”

Peter thinks about it. Of course it can´t harm him.

“You are absolutely right. Can you make an appointment? And see if she can see me as soon as possible.”

“I will call her after lunch. Do you want pancakes? I can make you chocolate chip.”

Peter gives her a small smile in reassurance. He must look really bad, is she offers to make him pancakes for lunch.

 

* * *

 

Neal feels like he is floating, it is a sort of lightheadedness, but the sort he has never felt before. He wonders if he is drugged. But then it is crystal clear. He is being killed, he can feel something trickling from his wrist. Slowly, Neal realizes Meester slit his wrist. The blood loss is causing the dizziness.

It is not fair. This is not the way he is supposed to die. His internal struggle must show, because suddenly he can feel someone touching him.

“Relax, it will be over soon.” Meester wipes away at his tears. “You did well, you are my most precious one.” Ellen says.

Neal is confused, wasn´t it Meester who was caressing him? But he turns his head, and there is Ellen. Neal frowns.

“Ellen, what are you doing here?”

“Now Neal, you know why I am here.”

Neal can´t hold back the sob that was building in his chest.

“Now now sweetheart, it will be over soon.”

“I expected Kate to wait for me.”

“Oh sweetheart, only someone who truly loved you in life, will wait for you, but I also hadn´t expected to be here. Not now. This isn´t how it is supposed to end. You need to know that, baby.”

“But I am so tired, Ellen. I can´t fight anymore.”

“Neal. That is not how your mother and I raised you. You are a fighter Neal Bennett, you hear me?”

Neal is taken aback by Ellen´s fierceness. She is right, he has never lied down and given up so easy. He needs to fight, he needs to give Peter and Mozzie a chance to find him. He…

He is pulled back to reality with a gasp. He owlishly blinks open his eyes only to see a very surprised Meester.

“Not ready to give up, are you?” the man smirks at Neal. “I can see it in your eyes. You still want to fight me. Good.”

Neal is already too weak to fight back and he feels himself slipping even with his resolve to fight this.

_Sorry Ellen, I should have tried harder, see you soon_. With that last thought, Neal lets go off his consciousness and with it life.

 

* * *

Eva Grandino welcomes Peter and Diana in her practice just before nine o´clock. She has agreed to see Peter after her last appointment that day after Elizabeth explained the situation. It is the best she can do as her practice is booked solid.

“Welcome agents. Agent Burke, Elizabeth told me that your partner is kidnapped and that you see clues in your dreams that you can´t remember when you wake up.”

“We are running out of options and I am the only witness to Neal´s kidnapping. Elizabeth thought you might be able to help me remember.”

“You sound skeptical.”

“I´m a FBI agent, I like facts.”

“No problem, you don´t need to believe this, I will just guide you in your subconscious. Whatever you saw, we can retrieve it.” The therapists smiles.

“I am willing to try anything if it can lead to Neal. Diana is here to record my statement.”

“That is fine. Please sit down.”

Eva places a metronome in front of Peter, who is sitting in a comfortable chair. She asks Diana not to look at it before she starts the device and asks Peter to follow the moving arm.

“Remember Peter, you are in control. You are safe and nothing can hurt you. I will count backwards and when we reach zero, you are back in the car with Neal. Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, zero.”

Diana can see Peter´s facial expression change.

“Can you tell me where you are, Peter?”

“We are in the car driving back to the office.”

“You sound irritated, what is causing it?”

“Neal is fiddling with the radio, I just want to listen to the game.”

Diana chuckles and Eva looks at her.

“That is Neal alright.” Diana explains before looking back at her note pad.

Eva doesn´t know the kidnapped agent but she can already imagine how his fiddling works on Peter´s nerves.

“I want you to go to the moment just before the accident.”

“I see movement from the right and turn towards it. It is a car driving at high speed towards us.”

“What is the color of the car?”

“It is a dark blue pickup.”

“What else can you tell me about the car?”

“It has a big chrome bull bar. There is a dent in the right fender.”

“Is there anything else, Elizabeth mentioned the windshield. Can you see it?”

Eva can see that Peter is concentrating.

“It is a sticker, one of those stickers doctors use so they can park in a no parking zone.”

“You are doing well, Peter. What happens next?”

“The car slams into us. I hit my head against the side window.”

“What happened to Neal?”

“He was knocked out on impact.”

“Was he injured?”

“There was blood on his face, probably from where he hit his head during the impact. That is all I can see.”

Peter´s breathing increases.

“Remember Peter, you are safe. Nothing can hurt you. You are just an observer. Breathe with me… in… out…”

Evan can see Peter doing his best to gain control over his breathing.

“So you told me the car backed away while you checked on Neal. Can you tell me the license plate?”

Peter´s frowns in concentration.

“No, I didn´t look at it… Wait, I can see it, there is a two, and a M , an H and an eight.”

“Very good Peter, is there anything else you want to explore or do you want to come back?”

“I can see the man.”

Peter sort of fast forwards through the event, stopping every time he sees the guy, describing what he sees. Diana notes everything but also tapes Peter´s testimony for future reference. When Eva notices that Peter is getting tired, she instructs him to distance himself from the scene and wake up when she tells him so.

A moment later Peter is looking confused at Eva and Diana.

“So?”

“You did great Peter, you remembered more than we expected.”

“I suggest I drop you off home, afterwards I will take the tape to the office.” Diana tells Peter.

“No way, I´m coming with you.”

Eva smiles at the two agents, she just met Peter, but she can tell he is a good but stubborn agent.

“I am glad I could help.”

“How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing Peter, just let me know when you find your missing colleague.

“I certainly will. I cannot thank you enough for seeing me on such short notice.”

“Glad I could help.”

* * *

 

Meester is watching in fascination how the life is draining from Neal´s body. He had a brief moment of resistance, probably when he realized what was happening. Not that he could do anything about it with the muscle relaxants he had given Neal.

He is mesmerized with Neal´s life juices dripping in a bucket he placed under Neal´s wrist. Neal seems to be dreaming or hallucinating in his last moments.

Neal seems to have a last lucid moment when he opens his eyes with a gasp. He studies them and can see Neal`s spirit is still ready to fight, but his body is just too weak.

“Not ready to give up, are you?” the man smirks at Neal. “I can see it in your eyes. You still want to fight me. Good.”

And then it hits him, he is not ready to let go of Neal either. He urgently presses the wound close and grabs with his other hand a pressure bandage. He then rushes to the other room where he keeps his medical supplies. He grabs the suture kit and two units of Neal´s blood type and a rapid infuser and runs back. After connecting Neal to the IV, he opens the suture kit and efficiently closes the wound he created.

While he dresses the wound, he thinks what made him rethink his decision. He checks Neal´s vitals and puts an extra IV bag with fluids in the mix. Neal has gotten to him, he thinks about it, it is sort of reversed Stockholm syndrome. He is not ready to say goodbye, just yet.

Once he is convinced Neal is no longer in mortal danger, he decides on a bite to eat and reheats some of the cock au vin. He gobbles down the stew while watching the news;

Oh good, he is still in the main news.

“ _Now with us is ASAC Peter Burke, he narrowly escaped his brush with the serial killer who is keeping New York State in his grip. Special gent Burke, the FBI released more information on the serial killer and the car used to crash into your car. Can you provide us with more details?_

_Of course. The FBI is looking for a Caucasian man, about six feet two, blond hair, this is an artist impression of the suspect. He drives a dark blue pickup with a chrome bull bar. There is a dent in the right fender. On the windshield is a sticker with an aesculape. So we assume he has an affinity with the medical profession. He can be a doctor, medical student. We are not sure._

_Please remember he is holding a victim as we speak and is considered armed and extremely dangerous. The FBI would like people to be aware and be careful. If you have any tips, please call the FBI hotline at 555-473972. Please do not approach the man yourself. Thank you._

_Special agent Burke, please tell…_

_No further comments. Thank you.”_

Peter Burke turns away and leaves to enter the building again.

Shit, the FBI has more information on him than he suspected. This is not good. He will need to deploy his contingency plan. They will need to go. He walks back to Neal, checking his vitals and smiles. He will have a nice surprise for the agent.

 

* * *

 

It doesn´t take long for the first tips to be called in at the FBI office. People are reporting blue pickups, see their co-workers in the description, but it isn´t until the next day that a caller tells the operator the address where the pickup can be found. It is a mechanic that had been asked to repair the dent in the fender. A man had come in to have a dent repaired but found the price to high and had decided against the repair.

A team of agents is send to talk to the witness. They call the office about two hours later, confirming the witness´s claim. By closure of office they have pieced together where the serial killer must be and a raid is prepared.

Since Peter is not yet qualified for field duty, he is not allowed to be there, but Ruiz and Rice both understand his need to be there, so he is ordered to wait in the car until the ´all clear´ signal is given.

Peter has to use all his willpower to stay in the car, but he also has to admit, he is tired and sore. The whole operation doesn´t take long and Peter startles when someone knocks on the window. When had he closed his eyes?

“How is Neal?”

“Peter, he cleared out, but we think it was very recent. The ERT team is busy, maybe they can tell us more.”

“Neal?”

“We don´t know, we haven´t found him, but there is evidence to suggest…”

“No, he is not death, until we find his body. Neal is a fighter.”

“Yes he was Peter, but there is something you should know.”

It didn´t miss Peter that the past tense was used. Peter gets out of the car and walks up to the building.

“What?” Peter opens the door, but someone holds his arm.

“Wait, I…”

“Tell me now.”

“We found an alarmingly large amount of blood. ERT will verify if it is Neal´s.”

Peter pales at the statement.

“There was also a note.”

“What did it say?”

“It is addressed to you, but ERT is dusting it for fingerprints as we speak.”

“What are we standing here for then, let´s go.”

The moment Peter enters the building, he can smell the fear, despair and death. It robs him of his breath for a moment. He snaps out of it when Rice hands him a pair of gloves and guides him through the different rooms. There isn´t a room where there are no signs of torture, sometimes it is the presence of tools, blood or other evidence. It makes Peter´s stomach churn.

They walk through a corridor when suddenly a young agent dashes out. He is pale and holds his hand in front of his mouth.

Peter steels himself for what he is going to face in that room; He hesitates a moment before stepping into the room, telling himself to cowboy up.

The coppery smell that assaults his senses has him stop. There is a vivisection table in the room, and on top of it there is a steel bucket. There are techs taking samples and photographs and Peter dreads what he will find in the bucket. Taking a deep breath, he walks over to the bucket. There is an obscene amount of blood.

“Do we have confirmation it is Neal´s?”

“Not yet. The note however is released.” Rice hands him an evidence bag with a note in it. Peter takes it out and reads it.

 

Dear Peter,

I guess by now you have figured out to whom the blood in the bucket belonged.

I must admit that you can be proud of your boy. He never stopped believing you would come to his rescue. He died saying your name.

Well, it has been a pleasure.

 

Sincerely,

                                   S.

 

“Peter? PETER!”

It takes Peter a moment to realize someone is calling him.

“What?”

“What does the note say?”

“That it is Neal´s blood. How much can a person lose without permanent damage?” Peter asks one of the techs.

“This is considered a fatal amount, sir.”

So the killer hasn´t been lying. Neal is dead. Neal is dead, he…

Suddenly he is breathing fresh air. Peter is confused on how he got outside. Diana and Jones are standing next to him.

“Doing better?”

Peter can hear the concern in her voice.

“What happened?”

“You zoned out for a moment. We though a bit of fresh air would help.”

“Thanks. I want to go home.”

“Sure boss, get in the car, I’ll driving.”

 

* * *

 

The next day’s pass in a blur. The lab confirms that the blood is indeed Neal´s blood type, more DNA is found, confirming that Neal was held in the building and that he was tortured.

Mozzie, Elizabeth and June arrange a wake, since there is no body to bury.

Peter is not willing to change Neal´s ´Missing in action´ status to ´Deceased’. When it is obvious for everybody that Peter is spiraling downwards, he is asked by the director to take some time off. At first he doesn´t want to hear about it, but when Diana and Jones convince him that he should take a vacation with Elizabeth, he agrees.

So effective immediately, he hands over his gun and badge to Diana, he wouldn´t be able to face Neal´s empty desk anyway on a day to day basis and he has forbidden to re-locate the desk. He asks Diana to fill in for him which she accepts with the demand that he takes Elizabeth on a trip. Peter considers her request and accepts. Next, he calls El if it is possible to take some time off. She understands his need for distance with New York to cope with Neal´s death. She promises to transfer her appointments to Yvonne and they are ready to go. June promises to take care of Satchmo.

“Where do you want to go?” El asks Peter that night. “We both have an open calendar. This has never happened before, as Neal would say, the world is our oyster.”

Peter looks up. El is right. They should use this unexpected free time, how morbid the reason for it, is.

“Let´s go to Italy. I want to show you where Neal jumped from the Rialto bridge.” Peter smiles at the memory. “You will like Venice.”

And so on a Thursday afternoon, Peter and Elizabeth board a Lufthansa flight to Venice.


End file.
